


Put On Your War Paint

by wirewrappedlily



Series: It's Misery [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Pack meets BAMF!Stiles, Guess who loses, Other, Slow Build, first of the series, slash comes later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 11:51:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wirewrappedlily/pseuds/wirewrappedlily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey, I just helped my dad close three murder cases and got Derek back, this was as much for me as it was for you." </p>
<p>Lydia chuckled, "Take the praise. It may never happen again."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Put On Your War Paint

It wasn't like in _Carrie_. 

For one thing: There was more blood. 

Stiles's hands flashed with the knives twirled easily between long, thin fingers, hypnotizing and sure as he smirked at the Alphas, his head cocked and his eyes glinting with a dare. There wasn't a hint of fear on him. He was past that. 

The bass thumped hard through the gym, one of his favourite songs, and Stiles felt like it felt to be doing this here and now. Erica had had a red dress picked out and put on hold for this night, before they'd killed her. Stiles smiled too widely, around bloody teeth, and the strobes flashed through the gym, most of its occupants cowering. 

The were-bitch had Scott by the back of his hair, snarling at him, and Stiles was the only man left standing. His date had disappeared into the crowd of scared kids that had had no idea that they'd be in danger tonight; that Stiles had made sure that he and Scott would be in attendance to keep them from getting killed. 

The douche-twins had Derek between them, limp and too still; the source of a good deal of the blood. 

"Let them go." Stiles purred. 

"Or you'll what, human?" The were-bitch snarled. 

Stiles grinned further, Cheshire and completely out of his mind. "Or I'll...this." Stiles's hand snapped out, sending the blade through the centre of the were-bitch's forehead, his date tossing him the giant scythe, singing as it cut through the air in his hands. The twins were like slicing through paper, and as Lydia drew into the festivities, firing up her flamethrower. The rest was a dance in the most violent sense: brutal and bloody as they fought through the Alphas, Scott staring awe-struck at them and Derek slumped on the ground. Stiles bit down on hoping he wasn't dead, his date falling in at his side as the three they'd left able to move tried to pull themselves together. "Oh, don't leave the party yet." 

There was a yell in the crowd of kids, and Isaac and Boyd emerged, two bags of weapons being passed from kid to kid, all of them over the shock and ready to fight. Stiles loved a plan coming together. The were-bitch leapt for him, and Stiles's date stepped in front of him, swatting her out of the air. Lydia stood over her like every good description of a goddess, smiling too innocently. Stiles inched closer to Derek with all eyes on her, his scythe a steady weight in his hand. Lydia turned to glance at him, and Stiles nodded once, flipping the scythe like he had the knives, "If Derek's dead, you're going to wish you'd never been born, let alone that you'd never come to Beacon Hills." Lydia intoned. Stiles felt a flash of warmth towards her, launching himself for Derek as she launched the assault. Derek was just as heavy as he had been with the kamina, slung over his shoulders all over again. Derek didn't rouse as Stiles pushed for the bleachers, the kids forming around him like a protective bubble in formal wear, keeping the wolves from reaching them. Isaac was waiting at the bleachers with Deaton, and Stiles groaned as he lowered Derek's body to the worn wood, precariously keeping him from falling back off. 

"Where's Peter?" 

"He's slipped out when you produced the knives. West exit. Knock 'im dead." Isaac recited, shooting him a grin as he set his knee against Derek's chest and Deaton pushed his arm back into place. 

Stiles was out the door in a moment, the blade against Peter's throat when he struck in the next. "What? You thought I'd let you kill them?" Stiles spat, "I turned a bunch of scared kids into an army. Got the idea from watching _Buffy_ with your old chewtoy, actually." 

"Lydia always was too smart for her own good. The same could be said of you. But, Stiles, you really want to kill the last of Derek's family?" 

"Better me do it than him, you idiot." Stiles scoffed, "And you're not family." 

"What? Because I killed Laura? Because I was the one to take that pup's head off her shoulders and stick it on a pike in her parent's front yard? Stole Derek from beneath your bedroom window in the night and tortured him until he couldn't scream anymore? That wasn't so much a necessity as it was...karma. He killed our family--"

"No. My sister killed your family." Chris Argent said from the shadows, "And you've already killed her." 

"She deserved worse!" Peter barked. Stiles didn't disagree, but by the sounds of things, the fight inside was over, so the fight without was going to wrap up very soon. "Even Lydia would agree with me!" 

"You're right, I would." Lydia told him simply, appearing behind Stiles with Derek leaning on her shoulder. "But that's out of our hands now, Peter." 

"What? You deigned to go out with Little Red here, and it's taken the bloodlust out of you?" 

"Kinda." Lydia chirped, nose crinkling, "But, see, Stiles had a better idea than just ripping your spine out." 

"Really?!" 

"Really." The sheriff said heavily. In a flash, Stiles's weapon was hidden once more, and he nodded at his dad, dropping the charade of cocky glee. "We don't have to go in." The sheriff told the deputies appearing out of the darkness around them, "No need to scare the kids." The sheriff met Stiles's eye and nodded minutely, "Mr. Hale, if you'd give a statement, we'll add kidnapping and assault to the two murder charges." 

"You have to know that no jail will hold me." Peter spat at Stiles. 

"Well, see, there's the rub." Stiles returned, turning to the last two to join their group. "Meet special agent Olivia Dunham, FBI, and Peter Bishop, consultant. Fringe science division. We might not have a cell to hold you in, but they do." 

Derek was staring at Stiles like he'd only just seen him, and Lydia was beaming at him as Peter was handcuffed and taken into Olivia's custody. Bishop drew closer, grinning, and Stiles high-fived him, accepting a bro-hug, "Hey, little cousin." 

"How's the little terror?" 

"Etta's good. She wanted you there to play with her last week, I think you've spoiled her after one visit." Bishop joked, smiling. "So, this Lydia?" Grinning charmingly, Bishop shook Lydia's hand, looking Derek over, "And you must be Derek Hale." Nodding his greeting, Bishop turned back to Stiles, "Liv's going to want you over for dinner, Little Red. Call us when you're ready." 

"I will." Stiles confirmed, turning as Olivia came up from putting Peter into the reinforced police van. Liv grinned as she pulled Stiles in for a hug, rubbing over his suit-clad back. 

"You did really well, Stiles." Olivia told him, "If you want a career in the craziness, give me a call." 

"Thank you. That'd...actually be really convienent. Then I could get paid for dealing with this crap." 

"And you've already found yourself a good partner." Olivia commented, shaking Lydia's hand. 

"It was really nice meeting you both." Lydia told them. 

"Th-Thank you." Derek managed, choked. Olivia and Bishop both inclined their heads to him, walking off with the sheriff. 

"Hey, think we could sell this crap to Hollywood?" Stiles asked. Lydia laughed, letting Derek stand on his own to knock into Stiles, kissing his cheek. 

"Thank you for thinking of this, Stiles." 

"Hey, I just helped my dad close three murder cases and got Derek back, this was as much for me as it was for you." 

Lydia chuckled, "Take the praise. It may never happen again." 

"Yes, ma'am." Stiles muttered, shaking his head. 

Stiles went to stand in front of Derek, his features utterly serious. "This was…" 

"You want to tell me it was stupid. Reckless. Pitting a bunch of teenagers against an Alpha Pack, and taking Peter down legally instead of taking his head off. You want to thank me, because it's saved you having to kill him again, and that's gotta be some weight of your damaged little psyche. And you want to leave now, but you're not going to. What you and I are going to do is go in and check on your wolves. Then I'm going to drive you to your house, and make sure you survive the night. Because Peter took you from under my window, I'm going to assume you'd be alright with me on your couch. Though you may have to call Scott to help you get it to un-eat me. That couch is lethal." 

"I wouldn't let the couch eat you." Derek told him quietly, a light in his eyes that Stiles hadn't really gotten to see like this before. 

"Well, in tradition of crappy high school dances for Beacon Hills's finest, let's go, boys." Lydia rallied. 

"At least you didn't get mauled this time." 

"True!" Lydia agreed, delighted. 

Stiles followed Lydia in, Derek by his side, his tongue unconsciously checking the were-bitch's opening move of smashing him in the face hadn't knocked out teeth. 

"Stiles, I think you're going to be my dance-date from now on." 

"I am amenable to that." Stiles and she shared a grin, walking into their battlefield and corralling the panicking staff members. Derek slipped away silently, out of place and unhappy with it.


End file.
